Night Prowler
by Renegade87
Summary: Another rambling from my mind...small town, werewolf, spitfire of a girl, angst ensues
1. Of Wolf and Man

**Title**: Night Prowler

**Author**: Renegade87 (Tareena Langford)

**Chapters**: 3

**Rating**: umm, T...I guess

**Pairing**: Dean/Shylah (OFC)

**Warnings**: language, allusions to sex ::shrugs::

**Feedback**: Hell yea! I didn't post this thing for my health.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dean or Sam ::damnit:: or anything else from the Supernatural universe. Or the song that makes an appearance (Night Prowler: AC/DC), or the chapter titles…seeing as I pulled those from songs too (Of Wolf & Man: Metallica; Free Falling: Tom Petty; Night Prowler: AC/DC). I do however own Shylah and her world. Puckett, Mississippi is a real place, that is their population and their sign does say that, or something like that…it's been a while since I've been up there. D'Lo and Mendenhall are real too, and Mendenhall's bank was in a trailer…they've since upgraded ;)

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**Chapter 1: Of Wolf And Man**

When someone dies in a small town, everybody's affected. It's just the nature of a small town.

Especially in the south.

There are entire families that have lived for generations in the same county, same town. Everyone knows everybody, if they're not related to begin with. So when someone dies, the whole town mourns. Hell, sometimes they even name something after them. But when someone's murdered…the whole town reacts. And right or wrong that town normally likes to take care of things their own way.

Unfortunately for Puckett, Mississippi, population some 350 odd people, "and a few sour old folks," so proclaimed by their town sign, more than just a murder had occurred. Eight murders had, and despite everyone knowing each other, there were no leads. No fingerprints, no DNA, no weapons. Just eight dead bodies.

Oh yea, all with their hearts missing.

Shylah threw down the most recent newspaper with a sigh. Frowning at the picture of the local nurse that had just joined the body count. She tossed some money on the shiny linoleum counter and left the town's café/firehouse/tire and mechanic's shop/bait and tackle shop/gas and corner store.

Oh yea, that's how small this town was. Their bank was in a doublewide for god's sake.

She passed Harvey, the local firefighter/cattle rancher/chicken farmer/school bus driver and waved hello as she headed the one-mile home to her family's old ranch house.

She hadn't wanted to admit to herself that she knew what was causing these murders. Murders of people she had grown up with. She hadn't believed herself at first either, but there was just no other possible explanation. Ha, possible. What she was thinking should be IMpossible.

She pulled off her jean jacket and tossed it over the old olive green and sunflower yellow vinyl dining room chair and smacked open the screen door to the back porch.

Sitting down at her workbench she sighed and struck a match, dropping it into a small fire pit, settling an old cast iron pot over the flames. She watched the fire grow, a frown over her features as she committed herself to the act.

She opened a backpack on the table and pulled out a candelabra, some silverware and even a necklace. Tossing them into the pot and waited for the metal to melt.

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"Werewolves?"

"Werewolf. And yea."

"Damn."

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just an honest to god werewolf. I mean, they were dying out back when dad took us to hunt that one in Montana back in," Dean snapped his fingers, drawing a blank.

"'93."

"Yea, '93."

"Yea, I know," Sam said, shuffling his papers around with his patented Sam Winchester frown, furrowed brow and troubled sigh.

"Well at least we know how to kill it."

"Yup, silver bullet to the heart. Thank god for accurate folklore."

Dean chuckled, "Yea, alright. So where is this thing again?"

"Puckett, Mississippi."

"Puckett?"

"Yea," he sighed again.

Dean groaned. "What?"

"Well, it's a small town."

"So."

"So, they probably all know each other. And they're probably not going to like a couple of shady looking guys hanging around."

"Yea, specially once one of their fine upstanding citizens goes missing."

Sam glared at Dean.

"What?"

Sam shook his head.

"Yea, yea, alright…so where is this Puckett?"

"A couple hours south of Jackson."

"Well alright," Dean grinned, grabbing his jacket, "We're going to Jackson."

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They actually stayed in Mendenhall, a town literally all of five minutes away from Puckett, but of at least 2000 more people, which made their visit look a little less conspicuous.

Their motel room walls weren't covered with printouts and clippings this go round. Despite thousands of years worth of lycanthropy legend, it somehow managed to stay pure and never got muddled by misunderstandings and interpretations. They knew a silver bullet would kill it. Knew it would turn and strike again at the full moon.

They did have a local map taped to the wall, bright red pins pointing out where the bodies had all been found; all around the D'Lo water park.

Dean had gotten all excited, expecting water slides, pools and a virtual theme park full of bikini clad women. He was sorely disappointed when the place they found was nothing more than an overgrown stream where people went to swim and maybe canoe.

Sam just laughed at Dean's defeated face and walked off into the woods.

About a half hour after scouting through the surrounding area they found some blood smeared across the ground.

"This is at least 500 yards from where any of the bodies were found," Sam muttered.

"Hey, look at this," Dean said, squatting down and plucking some hairs off a tree.

"Werewolf?"

Dean just shrugged.

Another 200 yards away they found some rock outcroppings that oh so conveniently created two separate caves, both containing more blood and fur.

"Well, looks like we know where to stake out," Dean said, taking in the terrain, picking out the best spots to hide.

"We each take a cave?"

"Yea, that works," Dean nodded.

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She sighed as she shrugged on her jean jacket and double-checked the calendar on the wall, wishing she was wrong and tonight wasn't the full moon. But of course, the black and white print never changed.

Ten minutes later her beat up old Chevy pickup went bounding out of her driveway. A .45 tucked in its driver's waistband.

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She stepped carefully, silently, gun aimed as she immersed herself in the darkness of the cave.

She heard the crunch of gravel behind her and spun. She was shocked when her sight aimed between to equally as shocked hazel eyes, aiming their own gun.

"Who are you?!" they both asked harshly.

She glared.

"Ladies first," he grinned cockily.

She cocked her gun and his grin faltered a second.

"Dean."

"Shylah."

"Why are you here?" they both echoed again.

"Oh for the love of…" Dean said, holding up his hands in surrender and putting away his weapon.

"You first," she ordered, still aiming at his pretty little head.

"I'm hunting."

"With a pistol? I doubt it. Besides, it's not hunting season."

Dean sighed, aggravated. "I'm not exactly hunting deer."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Look, you need to leave."

She glared harder. "Newsflash, this is my town, I'm not going anywhere, you're the one that needs to leave. You're in danger just being here."

"Look sweetheart," that earned another glare, "the only danger I'm in is from your itchy trigger finger. You don't know what's out here."

She narrowed her eyes again, and he paused, seeing something pass across her face.

"What's out here?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."


	2. Free Falling

Chapter 2: Free Falling 

"I still think you should go home, let my brother and I handle this," he whispered behind her.

She spun so quick it had him stumbling backwards to keep from running into her.

"Listen, _Dean_, I grew up in these woods. Learned to swim in D'Lo," she said, pointing over his shoulder, "I had my first gun at 6, rifle at 8, shot my first buck at 10, cougar at 12 and was making my own ammunition by 15, so no, I'm not going to go home and let you and your brother take care of it. And don't tempt me to put a bullet in your foot right now and leave you here to keep you off my back."

He smirked.

She just groaned and walked away.

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They sat on opposite sides of the cave, leaning against the rock walls.

"So how do you know about this…stuff?"

"It's my job."

She sighed, clearly irked with that nonanswer.

"What about you?" he asked, trying to take the spotlight off of himself.

"Well, let's see, people killed, hearts missing, just so happened they all took place during full moons…I took a leap."

"Pretty big leap."

"Well I've always been kinda open to the idea of things out there that we can't explain," she shrugged. "Figured I'd take a shot."

Dean nodded in acceptance and a bit of respect. "Not bad."

"Thanks…I guess," she grinned.

Dean smirked. "I just don't meet a whole lot of people that believe, let alone are out there trying to fight it."

"Well what about you and your brother? How'd you get into it?"

"We grew up with it. My mom was murdered. My dad kinda took things into his own hands after that, kinda been a family mission."

"Sorry."

"Eh, it's not your fault."

They both stood when they heard something snap.

She slid over to his side of the cave, standing slightly in front of him, which earned a glare. She snapped the safety off her gun and aimed into the darkness.

They both saw the shadow stalking towards them, all fur and muscle and stink.

She grimaced, damn thing smelled like a hound dog that took a dip in the swamp muck.

It stopped, sniffing the air and started to growl before pinning them with its yellow eyes.

It launched itself at them with an ungodly roar.

Dean ducked and rolled to the other side, away from the beast's target and then panicked when he realized Shylah hadn't followed him.

"Shylah!"

She stood, feet spread slightly and aimed at the horror flying at her.

She emptied her magazine into the animal, grinning in satisfaction when she heard it whine, before she dropped to her knees and rolled forward letting the 300 plus pounds of beast fly over her head to crash into the stone wall with a sickening crack before recoiling and crashing to the ground. The sound echoing in the small-enclosed space.

Dean recovered from the deafening gunshots and crashes and shot to his feet aiming at the werewolf lying on the ground, fully ready for it to jump back up and attack.

He slowly put down his gun when the animal didn't move.

"Nice."

She grinned.

He walked over to the mass of fur, toeing it with his boot, and double-checking it was down for the count.

He smirked and nodded. "Well…"

There was a creak and a rumble and both of them looked around.

"What was that?"

All they heard was a crack before they found themselves falling amongst rocks and debris.

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Dean groaned and took mental stock of his body and moved experimentally. Nothing seemed to be broken but he knew he'd be hurting in the morning. "Fuck," he hissed.

He heard a groan behind him and forced himself up.

"Shit…Shylah? You alright?" he asked, spotting her and shuffling over to where she was emerging from some rubble.

She groaned, "Oh yea, I'm just peachy."

He grinned and crouched down next to her with a wince.

She pulled her elbow around, craning her neck to see her jacket in bloody shreds around raw skin.

"Son of a bitch, this was my favorite jacket."

Dean chuckled and carefully touched her brow where there was a slow drip of blood running down her forehead.

She hissed but allowed him to poke around.

"Looks like you cracked it pretty good…you might have a concussion."

"Great," she said sarcastically.

"Here," he said, standing up and pulling a handkerchief from his back pocket, handing it to her before going to retrieve their guns.

"A man that still carries a handkerchief…that's rare," she said with a grin.

He grinned cockily as he handed her her gun.

"Thanks."

"You don't happen to have some rock climbing gear on you do you?" he asked as he looked up from the hole they had fallen into.

She just shot him a look.

"Yea, I know," he mumbled, pulling out his cell phone. "Damnit."

"What?"

"No cell reception."

"Really? 'Cause I heard the mole people around here have great service."

"Shut up."

"Your brother, Sam, he'll come looking for you won't he?" she asked, dabbing at her forehead.

"No. We weren't going to meet back up until 6am."

She groaned, "Just perfect, we are so screwed."

"No, we'll just wait till he gets here."

"Hey Einstein, in case you haven't noticed, we're stuck here until morning with no means of making a fire, unless of course you have some sort of magic or something so we can burn rocks."

He glared, "Do I look like Harry Potter?"

"It's supposed to get down to 65o tonight, and seeing as we're underground," she said, glancing up, "I'd be willing to bet at least 5o below that."

He sighed, "We are so screwed."

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An hour later they were curled up on the floor, sharing their jackets and keeping each other warm.

"You're joking me!"

"Naw," he laughed, "he was completely covered in goo, it was hilarious."

She laughed, ducking her head into his chest.

He sighed, shifting his arms around her.

"Man, I hate caves."

She laughed again.

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As the temperature dropped lower, they snuggled closer. Swapping stories and laughing in the dark.

She sighed and pulled his arm around, looking at his watch and groaned.

"Only 9 o'clock…we've got a long night ahead of us."

Dean grinned.

She rolled her eyes and laughed.

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Another hour later and they were laying together, her face against his chest.

She sighed and he pulled back to look at her.

"You alright?"

"Yea," she whispered, her crystal blue eyes almost glowing in the darkness.

He bent down slowly, entrapped in her eyes, like a moth to a flame, watching her for any signs that she didn't want this.

He closed his eyes when her own soft lips connected with his.

They lost themselves in the kiss and when they finally broke they were both breathing kind of hard.

She sighed and he rolled his forehead against hers.

When they met eyes he went tongue tied, trying to find the right words to say.

"Relax Dean."

He chuckled, embarrassed.

She laughed too and nuzzled his solid chest when he held her tighter.

She pulled back and kissed him again softly and he looked at her questioningly.

"You sure?" he whispered.

She just grinned. "I've had my share of one-nighters too," she paused. "I'm not going to pretend I'm not attracted to you. Hell, we got some time to kill, why not?"

He chuckled nervously.

"I know you're not a bad guy Dean. I can tell that much. Which, will probably make it worse in the morning," she paused, "The good guys always leave you wanting more," she whispered.

If he had been anyone other than Dean Winchester he would have blushed.

"Look, if you don't want to…"

"No, no, I didn't say that," he stuttered before she kissed him to shut him up.

"I like you Dean."

He stared.

"And I know you're not going to stick around here."

He looked away for a second.

"It's okay Dean."

He just sighed before kissing her softly, his whole body coming alive under her touch.

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She was curled up against his chest, his face cheek resting against her own.

He sighed and she smiled against him, kissing his nipple and making him twitch.

"That's one way to keep warm."

He chuckled and moaned his agreement before kissing her, slow and deep as she moaned into his mouth.


	3. Night Prowler

Chapter 3: Night Prowler 

Dean woke way early in the morning, watching her sleep for a minute before kissing her brow.

She shifted and sighed.

"Sorry babe," he whispered, "Didn't mean to wake you."

She smiled, holding him tighter, "It's okay."

He smiled and kissed her when she looked up at him.

"Why don't you and Sam come back to my place? Eat a home cooked meal, get some rest."

Dean pondered it for a moment. Painfully aware that he was already more attached to her then he should be, which added to him wanting to go. Spend one more day with her. But at the same time, making him wonder if he should just cut and run.

But she had a point. Some food and rest would be good before hitting the road again, he justified it to himself.

"Okay," he smiled, kissing her again.

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They got dressed a little while later. Dean took a seat against the wall where she settled between his legs, leaning back into him, his arms wrapped around her, while they waited for Sam.

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"Oh my god…" Sam whispered, seeing the dead werewolf. "Dean?!"

"Sammy!" he called, "Oh, thank god," he muttered, getting up from the floor. "Sam, be careful, there was a cave in. We're down here."

He saw Sam's shaggy head appear over the edge.

"You okay?" he asked, his eyes raking over Dean before shooting over to Shylah in surprise.

"Yea, we're fine. Go get that rope out of the trunk of the car and get us the hell outta here."

"Alright, here," Sam said, tossing down his water bottle which Dean caught easily and immediately tossed to Shylah.

"Thanks."

"Alright, I'll be right back," Sam said before disappearing.

Shylah took a sip of water before handing the bottle back over to Dean.

"Your brother's cute," she grinned.

He groaned and swallowed the water, shooting her a glare.

She laughed. "Must run in the family," she said, walking up to him and kissing him.

He smirked and kissed her back.

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Dean came up behind her at the stove and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

She smiled and leaned back into him as he kissed her cheek.

"Smells good."

"Mmm hmm."

He sighed and her smile faltered, turning around to look at him.

"Don't."

"Shy…"

"Don't," she said, putting her finger over her lips to stop him.

"Just…don't. I know, okay," she whispered, looking down.

He sighed again and pulled her into a hug.

"I wish I could…at least take you to a movie or something."

She laughed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Me too," she said, rising to her tiptoes and kissing him.

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Dean came around the corner and headed to the couch, handing Sam a beer before sitting down with his own in silence.

Sam watched him cautiously. He didn't know _exactly_ what had happened between Dean and Shylah, although he had a pretty good idea, but he could tell Dean was attached.

And that didn't happen every day.

Plus he knew how it felt. Falling for a girl just to have to turn around and walk away. He still looked for jobs in New York, just for an excuse to go see Sarah.

"She seems cool."

"Yea."

Sam glanced at him as he sighed.

"I told her we'd stay another night…leave in the morning."

Sam nodded and took a sip of his beer. "Cool."

Dean sniffed and got back up, walking away.

"I'm sorry man," Sam said quietly, hoping Dean wouldn't shut down now that he pulled a chick flick card.

Dean stopped in the doorway and turned slightly, before glancing at Sam.

"Thanks man," he said quietly with a sad smile before walking off.

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Dean came out of the bathroom and smiled at Shylah who was already curled up under the covers.

He slipped in behind her and pulled her into him.

She smiled and turned over, smiling at him.

He grinned back and kissed her softly before pulling back, staring into her blue eyes and sighing.

"Dean, it's okay."

"No it's not."

She shrugged, "No, but it's going to have to be. You guys have to leave, I understand that. I knew what I was getting into with you."

He sighed again and looked away, letting his hand run down her arm.

"I just…I wish things could be different," he whispered.

She smiled and cupped his cheek, making him look at her again.

"I know," she whispered back, "Me too."

They stared at each other in silence, before she leaned in and kissed him softly.

"You know, if you boys are ever in Mississippi again, you can always stop by," she smiled.

He grinned and nodded, "We will."

She smiled again and he sighed, mentally kicking himself for getting attached like this. But she wasn't some dumb bimbo he'd bang in the bar bathroom, wasn't some airhead that laughed at his jokes no matter how lame. She was strong and independent and sexy as hell and _real._

He kissed her, shutting up the thoughts in his head.

_Just one more night._

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Dean woke up to the light filtering through the curtains. He watched Shylah sleep for a minute, cursing the fact that he would have to shatter this picture perfect weekend.

He sighed and kissed her gently.

She smiled and sighed, snuggling into his warmth.

He buried his nose into her neck before pulling back and kissing her deeply.

They broke and stared at each other in silence.

She cupped his cheek, "Why don't you go grab a shower, I'll make some breakfast."

He sighed and kissed her again before reluctantly leaving the warmth of the bed and headed to the bathroom.

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She walked up the steps to her kitchen to see Sam standing over the stove.

"And just _what_ do you think you're doing?!" she asked, hands on her hips.

Sam froze, eyes wide, mouth open and spatula in hand.

"I um…I just…uh…"

She grinned and he realized she was joking, dropping his head and laughing, as she walked by him and poured herself a cup of coffee.

"I thought I'd let you guys sleep in," he said with a small smile.

She smiled back and sat down on one of the barstools at the counter.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

He just smiled. "You know…I've seen my brother with a lot of girls…"

She smirked.

"I mean…not that he…I just…" he stuttered, realizing how that must have sounded.

She raised her hand. "Relax Sam."

He grinned. "I just, I've never seen him get so attached…that means something."

She blushed and looked away.

He smiled before Dean came in and took the barstool next to her.

Sam grinned again and turned back to the stove.

Shylah glanced up from her coffee and shared a grin with Dean.

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Sam tossed their last duffle bag into the trunk and slammed it shut, walking back over to where Shylah was standing on the front porch.

He smiled and pulled her into a hug.

"Bye Shylah."

"Bye, Sam," she smiled.

He grinned back and crunched through the gravel, getting into the driver's side of the Impala.

Dean was leaning against the rear fender, hands stuffed in his pockets, staring at the ground.

Shylah slipped her own hands in her pockets and walked over to him.

He looked up and smiled sadly at her before pulling her into a hug.

She rested her cheek against his chest and sighed.

After a minute she pulled back to look at him.

He leaned in and kissed her, resting his forehead against her own.

"I'm gonna miss you," she whispered.

He sighed, "Me too."

She kissed him again. "If you're ever south of the Mason Dixon line again, you better let me know," she grinned.

He smirked and nodded. "I will…I promise."

She sighed and kissed him one last time.

He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat and got into the passenger side.

Shylah waved at Sam and then watched Dean in the side mirror as he stared at her and they pulled away.

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Sam took a chance and glanced over at Dean who had his sunglasses on and was staring at the drab scenery that passed.

"You know," Sam started, causing Dean to turn slightly and look at the dashboard.

"I got a girl waiting in New York…I guess you just prefer the country chicks huh?" he grinned.

Dean smiled slightly and glanced at Sam who smiled back.

A few more awkward minutes of silence and Sam dug out a cassette tape and popped it into the tape deck.

Bon Scott started belting out in classic AC/DC fashion.

_Somewhere a clock strikes midnight,_

_And there's a full moon in the sky,_

_You hear a dog bark in the distance, _

_You hear someone's baby cry,_

Dean grinned at Sam who smiled back.

"Thanks man."

Sam grinned and looked back out the windshield.

_I'm your night prowler…_


End file.
